Prehch's International Copvrig-hted (in England, her Colonies 
and United States) Edition of tiie Works of the Best Authors 



No. 380 



I THE PROFESSOR'S 
J DAUGHTER 



A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS 



By 



ANNE BUNNER 



COPYRIGHT, 1919. BY SAMUEL FRENCH 



ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

CAUTION: — Professionals and amateurs are hereby warn- 
ed that "THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER," being- 1 
fully protected under the copyright ^aws of the 
United States, is subject to royalty, and anyone 
presenting' the play without the consent of the 
author or her authorized agents will be liable to the 
penalties by law provided. Applications for the act- 
ing rights must be made to Sainuel French, 28-30 
West 3Sth St.. New York. 



PRICE 25 CENTS 



New York 

SAMUEL FRENCH 

Publisher 

28-30 West 3Sth Street 



London 
SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltb. 
26 Southampton Street 
STRAND, W. C. 2 



THE PROFESSOR'S 
DAUGHTER 

A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS 



By 
ANNE BUNNER 



COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY SAMUEL, FRENCH 



ALL, RIGHTS -RESERVED 

CAUTION: — Professionals and amateurs are hereby warn- 
ed that "THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER," being 
fully protected under the copyright laws of the 
United States, is subject to royalty, and anyone 
presenting the play without the consent of the 
author or her authorized agents will be liable to the 
penalties by law provided. Applications for the act- 
ing rights must be made to Samuel French, 28-30 
West 38th St., New York. 



New Yoek 

SAMUEL FRENCH 

publishkb 

28-30 West 38th Stbeet 



London 
SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
26 Southampton Steekt 
STRAND, W. C. 2 



\-'' 



CHARACTERS " 

Jerry Thorpe 
Jack Morgan 

Sam Their colored servant 

Mrs. Martin Jack's Aunt 

Margery Martin Her Daughter 

Professor Littleton 

Eve Littleton His Daughter 

Miss Hipsie The village seamstress 

George The Hired man 



o u L vj I rj i i 



fi'ul.iJ 52144 



THE PROFESSOR'S 
DAUGHTER 



ACT I 

SCENE I 

Jack Morgan's rooms in New York. Sam a colored 
man is cleaning a rifle. A trunk is open in one 
corner and fishing tackle, waders, sport clothes, 
etc., are strewn around. Sam picks up an 
English cap, puts it on his head, raises the rifle 
to his shoulder and admires himself in the 
mirror. Gerald Thorpe enters unobserved 
and stands watching him. 

Sam. {Solemnly pulling the trigger) Bang., 
bang ! I got yer ! 

Thorpe. {Hands in pocket regarding him) 
Pretty good shot Sam. 

Sam. {Starting and looking round) Dat you 
Mr. Jerry? 

Thorpe. Oh ! no Sam, it's the Queen of Sheba. 

Sam. I'se just lookin' down the barrel to see 
if it's clean like you told me, 

Thorpe. And the cap Sam — did you put that on 
to see if it was clean too? 

Sam. {Sheepishly removing cap) For de Lord 
sake Mr. Jerry I don' know what this cap was doin' 
on my head, — I jest put it on absent-minded like. 

Thorpe. {Looking over his fishing tackle) You 
can pack all this stuff up again Sam — I shan't want 

3 



4 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

it after all. {He puts it down dejectedly, picks up 
a newspaper and throws himself into a chair.) 

Sam. Ain't you goin' to take no vacation Mr. 
Jerry? 

Thorpe. Oh, yes, you'll get me off your hands 
for a few weeks if that's what you're worrying 
about. 

Sam. Well sir I'd like the chance to give these 
here rooms a good cleaning. 

Thorpe. Would you Sam? The cellarette will 
be locked you know? 

Sam. Is that so Mr. Jerry, that won't disturb 
my cleanin' no how. 

Thorpe. Oh, of course not Sam, of course not, 
merely a little pleasantry on my part. 
, Sam. (Packing azvay the tackle) Will you be 
wanting your tennis racquet Mr. Jerry? 

Thorpe. (Shortly) No. 

Sam. Shall I leave the golf sticks out? 

Thorpe. No. 

Sam. (Scratching his head) I give it up, Sir. 

Thorpe. What do you give up? 

Sam. I can't make out what sort of a vacation 
you're goin' to take. 

Thorpe. (Gloomily) Neither can I. 

(Sam, delving in the trunk picks up a pile of letters 
tied with ribbon, — stares at them) 

Sam. (Chuckling) I reckon you'll be needin' 
me for a butler next winter, sir. 

Thorpe. A butler — what the devil do you think 
I'm going to do — start housekeeping? 

Sam. Yes sir, I reckon you're fixing to get 
ertgaged sir? ^ 

Thorpe. The hell you do, what are you talking 
about? (He turns but Sam drops the letters 
quickly.) 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 5 
(Enter — Jack Morgan) 

Morgan. What are you doing Sam, house- 
cleaning ? 

Thorpe. (Morosely) Oh, no, Sam isn't clean- 
ing, he is busy chattering. 

Sam. I just allowed Mr. Jack 

Thorpe. Well don't allow Sam — it gets on my 
nerves, I can't allow it. 

Morgan. You seem to have ruffled Mr. Jerry's 
feathers Sam — what have you been doing? 

Sam. I didn't do nothin', I just allowed 

Thorpe. Didn't I tell you to stop allowing? 

Morgan. There, you've hurt his feelings again 
Sam. 

Sam. No sir, Mr. Jack — I was just suggesting — 

Thorpe. Don't suggest either — get to hell out 
of here Sam, you'll drive me crazy. 

Morgan. Yes, you had better depart rapidly 
Sam, I conclude that you are persona non grata 
at present. 

Sam. (Shaking his head) No sir, I ain't that 
sir; no one ever called me nothing like that sir 
before. 



(Exit, Sam.) 

Morgan. What's up, Jerry? 

Thorpe. (Morosely) Nothing. 

Morgan. Oh, excuse me, then why so down? 

Thorpe. (Crossly) I'm not. 

Morgan. (Cheerfully) Is the world hollow 
and your doll stuffed with sawdust? 

Thorpe. Don't be an idiot, nothing is the matter. 
I'm perfectly cheerful. 

Morgan. (Grinning) My mistake, I didn't 
hear you singing. (Wanders restlessly around the 
room for a second). Have you decided to take a 



6 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

month off this summer? 

Thorpe. Yes. 

Morgan. You need it, you're getting seedy. 
Your first real vacation in five years isn't it ? Shall 
we go to the Adirondacks? 

Thorpe. (Shortly) No. That is — I won't. 

Morgan. Why not? I thought it was all 
arranged, — where do you want to go? 

Thorpe. I am going to Indiana. 

Morgan. (In a crescendo of surprise) Indiana? 

Thor*'E. (Irritably) Yes Indiana, exactly what 
I said, Indiana, Chickapee^ Indiana. 

Morgan.. (Hilariously) Oh, Indiana, Indiana, 
Chickapee, Indiana. Is it a chant or an oratorio? 
(Breaks into singing it.) Why are you going to 
Chickapee, Indiana, Indiana? You take the tenor 
Because I am going to Chickapee, Indiana, Indiana. 

Thorpe. (Interrupts, rising angrily) Oh, shut 
up. I can't stand that drivel. Jack, it isn't a joke. 

Morgan. What isn't a joke? (Breaking into 
song again) Chickapee, Indiana, Indiana. 

(Thorpe flings himself out of the room, and returns 
with his hat. Morgan stops on a prolonged 
high note, and then he becomes serious.) 

Morgan. (Seriously) Sorry, I'll shut up. Can't 
you tell me what's up? 

Thorpe. (Throws down his hat and sits down) 
Sorry I was cross. Jack, but I'm in the devil of a 
hole. 

Morgan. (Irrepressibly) Not yet, not until you 
are in Chickapee, Indiana, Indiana. 

(Thorpe reaches for his hat again. Morgan stops) 

Morgan. Black and blue, the voice of the turtle 
shall not be heard again. Go on. 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 7 

Thorpe. (Sarcastically) Very v/ell, the Metro- 
politan may clamor for you, but at the next trill 
I go. 

Morgan. On with the tragedy. You haven't 
been buying real estate in Chickapee, have you? 

Thorpe. No. 

Morgan. Going out to run for mayor? 

Thorpe. Don't be an ass. 

Morgan. Just going out there to bide-a-wee in 
Chickapee ? 

Thorpe. (Irritated beyond endurance) Will 
you shut up? I'm going out there because I'm 
engaged. 

Morgan. Engaged! Engaged! Now really, Jerry, 
did you get engaged by long distance, or by parcel 
post ? And engaged to Chickapee of all people ! ! ! 
(Morgan explodes zvith laughter and Thorpe 
reaches for his hat again — Morgan, controlling 
himself) Very well, if you don't care for my eager 
interest, proceed with the story along your own 
lines — but I'll admit you baffle me, Mr. Holmes. 
You've been in South America for two years, in 
Mexico for four, and in this apartment with me 
for three months. When did you snatch a week- 
end to get engaged to a girl in Chickapee? 

Thorpe. (Morosely) I've been engaged to her 
for seven years. 

Morgan. And lo ! it came to pass that J^cob 
served seven years for Rachel. How patriarchal ! 
You'd better wire and be sure they are not resei"ving 
Leah for you. The only other exponent of such 
faithfulness got two wives for his trouble if I 
remember rightly. 

Thorpe. How funny, how very funny, you are ! 

Morgan. (Cheerftdly) Aren't I, and when did 
you meet patient Griselda? Did your nurse take 
you out to Chickapee for a holiday? 

Thorpe. I went out there for some practical 



8 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

experience with an engineer corps, the summer 
before I graduated. 

Morgan. Aha, and Patient Griselda was the 
daughter of the hay seed that boarded the corps. 
The village belle of Chickapee ! I see it all, a lovely 
little rural romance, Jerry, but why the seven year 
hangover ? 

Thorpe. Don't be an ass. Her father is a 
professor. They were the only civilized people in 
the place, and they were awfully nice to me. She 
was only sixteen, a kid with her hair down her 
back, but awfully old for her age and as pretty as 
a picture. 

Morgan. Great Scott! and Griselda has been 
waiting for you all these weary years in Chickapee ? 

Thorpe. (Coldly) Her name is Eve. 

Morgan. Eve ! oh quite so ! and haven't there 
been any Liliths in the interim? 

Thorpe. In South American or Mexican 
mining villages? No, there haven't been. Don't 
be an Jiss, that isn't the trouble. 

Morgan. Gerald, your continued repetition of 
the word "ass" is having an hypnotic effect upon 
me, if you say it again I shall probably bray. 

Thorpe. (Gloomily) Great Scott, think of 
going out to marry a girl I haven't seen for seven 
years, why we were nothing but kids ! 

Morgan. (Singing to the tune of Adam was the 
First Man) 

" Eve was the first girl that ever was invented. 
She lived in Chickapee but she couldn't be 

contented, 
Along came Jerry. She said, "Why here's a man, 
I'm sick of Chickapee, and I'll catch him if I can ! " 

Is that the idea, Jerry? 
Thorpe. Don't be an ass, what shall I do? 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 9 
(Morgan brays like an ass, and remains silent) 

Thorpe. I say, you might be decent. I'm in the 
devil of an hole. I can't jilt that poor girl after 
she's waited for me all this time. This job will 
keep me in the East for five years at least. I haven't 
the shadow of an excuse for not marrying. It 
was different when I was in those beastly holes 
of mining camps. 

Morgan. Has Griselda remained immovable in 
Chickapee ever since you left? 

Thorpe. No, she went East to school. 

Morgan. Then she's had a chance to see other 
men. Perhaps she's in a blue funk about the 
matter, too. 

Thorpe. {Bridling) H she's met anyone else 
she wanted to marry, she'd have written to me 
about it. It's her prerogative to break the engage- 
ment, isft't it? 

Morgan. Ah ! there you're beyond my depth. 
Perhaps she's waiting to see you before she passes 
judgment. 

Thorpe. Nonsense. 

Morgan. Poor chap, you feel then, that when 
she once sees your six-feet-one of clean cut, young 
American manhood there'll be no escape? 

Thorpe. Don't be caddish. 

Morgan. I'm not, but I don't see but what you 
will have to be. What sort of a girl is she anyway ? 
The clinging vine type, I presume. 

Thorpe. Well, you presume v/rong. She's dis- 
tinctly clever and intellectual. 

Morgan. Well there's a gleam of hope. You're 
not strong on the intellectual stuff, Jerry, you may 
bore her. 

Thorpe. Bore her ! What do you mean ? I'm 
not a complete fool. 

Morgan. The more you harp on your graces 



10 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

and allurements the more hopeless the situation 
seems. (Thorpe cjrunts) You ought to go out 
there and tell her you have embezzled. {No answer 
from. Thorpe) Why not pretend you were a drug 

fiend, that would be a bit of a damper to her? 

(Morgan musingly) I say, Jerry, is she very 
re-fined ? 

Thorpe. I told you she was a lady. 

Morgan. Then she wouldn't care for a bounder. 

Thorpe. {Indignantly) She certainly wouldn't. 

Morgan. {Suddenly getting up and walking 
aroimd) I have it Jerry, fee a bounder then ! 

Thorpe. The devil. 

Morgan. No, not the devil. Nothing so extreme 
as that. You couldn't act the part. Just a plain 
bounder. 

Thorpe. What in thunder are you talking about? 

Morgan. Why, it's an inspiration, pure and 
simple. Don't you see, you poor idiot, yow're to go 
out there and bound a bit for her. Disillusionize 
her simply and painlessly, until she breaks the 
engagement. 

Thorpe. Rave on. 

Morgan. No, no. You mustn't be discouraged. 
Apollo himself could disgust a woman if he set out 
to. Disguise those dangerous charms of yours that 
you harp upon so ceaselessly ; subdue that debon- 
naire manner. Difficult as it may seem to you, the 
thing can be done. 

Thorpe. What do you want me to do? Go out 
there and act like a bally circus clown ? 

Morgan. That might accomplish it, of course, 
but it would, I fear, require more dramatic talent 
than you have. Your role is to be plain everyday 
objectionable, — pompadour your hair, and invest in 
one of those entrancing decollete collars, ^iye the 
appearance of an exuberant soda-water clerk on a 
holiday, tell the lady what a devil of a fellow you 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER ii 

are, and how you've been painting the town red. 

Thorpe. (Slowly, thinking) There's something 
in that idea, but it sounds a beastly caddish thing to 
do. 

Morgan. I should call it the height of chivalry. 
You don't want to marry her and no decent girl 
wants to be unwillingly married. You don't want 
to throw her down, they don't take kindly to that 
either, — so the only solution is to make her throw 
you down. And you'vfe confessed that your natural 
charms would make that impossible. 

Thorpe. Rot, I never said anything of the sort. 

Morgan. Your modesty forbade the direct 
statement, but you implied it, my dear boy, you 
ifnplied it. 

Thorpe. If youM cut out your nonsense and help 
me I believe I could put that through. It's a rotten 
trick, of course, but it would be the best thing for 
both of us in the end. She would be disgusted but 
she certainly wouldn't be hurt. 

Morgan. Very well, appoint me as your stage 
director, and I'll go out there with you and see you 
through. When are you going? 

Thorpe. I wrote Eve I would come out there the 
first of next month, three weeks from now. 

Morgan. Well, you will have to prepare her fdr 
your entrance in your new role. What sort of 
letters do you write her, anyway? 

Thorpe. Oh, stupid letters. I can't write a 
decent letter. Just a note now and then to tell her 
what I am doing. 

Morgan. Well, you'll have to open up a bit. 
That would be natural enough when you expect to 
see her so soon. Tell her what a gay bird you're 
getting to be and drop in a blood-curdling word or 
two like "girley" or "babe". That will send a 
chill shiver of apprehension up the spine of a 
properly brought up Professor's daughter. 



12 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Thorpe. {Cheering up) Yes, and I might send 
her a httle gift or two, a puffed satin jewel case 
with a beautiful girl's head on the cover. 

Morgan. Splendid, you're getting into the spirit 
of the thing. Send her a Gibson sofa pillow and 
drop her a gaudy post card now and then. 

Thorpe. Let's go out and shop. I'll change 
in my room and burst in on you in my full 
glory so you can get the effect and tell me how it 
goes. 

(Morgan gets pencil and paper and Thorpe makes 
a list) 

Morgan. Several sport shirts with Lord Byron 
collars, one imitation trench coat. 

Thorpe. One red tie, one bottle of Brilliantine. 

Morgan. One striped suit with cuffs on sleeves. 

Thorpe. Yes, with the pockets cut on the bias 
and a plethora of buttons. 

Morgan. You can get it at a Chicago mail order 
house. 

Thorpe. One diamond ring and scarf pin. 

Morgan. One pair of cloth top boots. 

Thorpe. {Writing) One complete bounders' 
outfit. Anything else you can think of? 

Morgan. No, I think you will put up a neat and 
up-to-date appearance in that outfit. By Jove, I 
don't believe it would be necessary for you to do 
anything but send your suit case on by express 
with a request to have it unpacked. If she saw 
that trousseau she'd wire you to break the 
engagement. 

Thorpe. We can't depend too much on the 
make-up. Eve's a thoroughbred all right, but 
living in Chickapee she may not realize the whole 
horror of that outfit. 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 13 

Morgan. Do you suppose she dresses from a 
Sears-Roebuck catalog ? 

Thorpe. How the devil do I know how she 
dresses? They didn't use to go strong on clothes 
in Chickapee but I wish you'd stop guying her, it's 
beastly caddish. 

-Morgan. Aha, follow closely in my footsteps, 
my son, and you will bound naturally, I'm only 
trying to give you a little practice. 

Thorpe. You think the whole thing is a bally 
joke, don't you? 

Morgan. Why, yes, I rather did. Were you 
regarding it as a sacred pilgrimage? 

Thorpe. I can't say it appeals to me as a lark. 
Of course it's going to be a whole three- ringed 
circus for you. but how would you like to be in my 
boots ? 

Morgan. HI were in your boots I wouldn't 
squeak them as much as you do. I should carr}'- off 
the performance with more eclat. Cheer up, Jerry 
you are as dismal as a wet hen. Go and do your 
shopping and we'll have a dress rehearsal. 

Thorpe. (Taking the list) All right, I can get 
all this truck right around the corner, perhaps the 
Lord Byron collars will give me inspiration. (He 
starts toward the door.) 

Morgan. (Calling) I say, Jerry! 

Thorpe. What ? 

Morgan. I wouldn't depend too much on the 
collars for inspiration. Line yourself with several 
long cool drinks. 

(Exit Thorpe) 

(Morgan doubles up with laughter. He is stilt 
laughing when a knock is heard on the door. 
He stops laughing and opens the door.) 



14 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Morgan. Why, Margery! and Aunt Emma! 
Come in. How bully ! I didn't know you were in 
town. 

{Enter Mrs. Martin and her daughter, Margery, 
a young attractive girl in the early twenties.) 

Mrs. jMartin. How are you, John? We were 
just passing through town and thought we would 
run in to see you. I couldn't think where to go, 
New York is so dull in summer. 

Morgan. Ah, thanks awfully, Aunt Emma. 
(Kisses her). 

Margery. Hello, Jack ! 

Morgan. Hello yourself. (He kisses her, then 
looks at her a moment) You do look topping, 
Margeiy. (He kisses her again). 

Mrs. Martin. (Who has been looking around 
the room, remarks coldly) That will do, John, it 
is not necessary to kiss Margery twice. 

Morgan. ^ Oh, I was going to kiss you again, 
Aunt Emma, you mustn't be impatient. 

(Mrs. Martin crosses to an arm chair, takes her 
knitting out of a hag and sits down and begins 
to knit on a sleeveless jacket.) 

Margery. (Noticing Jack's expression) That 
doesn't mean that we are going to spend the day 
with you. Jack : Mother begins to knit automatically 
as soon as she sits down. 

Jack. I say, how interesting. (Looks at her 
intently) Do you stop automatically when you get 
up. Aunt? 

Mrs. Martin. (Solemnly) I have never tried 
to knit standing up, John, but I can knit with my 
eyes closed. (She closes her eyes tightly and 
continues knitting.) 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 15 

Morgan. Jove, that's interesting. You can keep 
the pace up when you're asleep at night then can't 
you? 

Mrs. Martin. (Opening her eyes) Certainly 
not, how absurd, John ! 

Morgan. Well I think you ought to practice, 
Aunty. I know chaps that walk in their sleep, and 
talk in their sleep, I don't see why you couldn't 
knit. 

Margery. Mother has made twenty-five aviators' 
helmets. Jack, but I think they're too small. 

Mrs. Martin. John, you can try one on. I 
wanted to try one on the Pullman porter, but it 
seemed to upset Margery. {She takes out knitted 
helmet and tries it on Jack'.s head. It is several 
sizes too small — Mrs. Martin sighing) Well, 
I can't help it, I followed the directions they gave 
me at the Red Cross. They certainly know what 
size they want. 

Morgan. Possibly they have assorted sizes of 
aviators. This may be directions No. H for 
medium sized aviators. 

Margery. You had better slip the sweater on 
Jack, too, mother, to be sure that isn't too sm.all. 

Morgan. Oh, have a heart, Margery, this is 
August and I'm not banting. (Mrs. Martin hands 
him the sweater and Margery helps him with it. 
It is far too large and falls to his knees) Aunt, I 
suspect you of attempting to violate the Enemy 
Trading act. This garment could only be meant for 
one of the Kaiser's seven foot Potsdam Guard. 

Margery.. (Laughing) Jack, if I help you out 
of that will you get me a glass of water. 

Morgan. I'll do more than that, Margery; if 
you get me out without dropping a stitch I'll make 
you some tea. 

Margery. Oh, you duck. I'd adore tea (She 
helps him out of cap and sweater.) 



i6 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 
(Mrs. Martin goes on knitting.) 

Morgan. {Going to a corner closet) Here are 
the tea things. You rummage around and get what 
you want and I'll start the alcohol lamp. 

Margery. Why, Jack, you've all sorts of things. 
Do you get your breakfast here? 

Morgan. We do when we are too feeble to go 
out. 

Margery. Who is we? 

Morgan. Oh, Jerry Thorpe has been living with 
me for several months. We used to be great chums 
in college. He has been in Mexico and in South 
America on mining jobs for the last few years. 

Margery. Is he attractive? 

Mrs. Martin. Margery! 

Morgan. What's the matter, Aunt? Margery 
isn't planning to abduct him, even if he is attractive. 

Mrs. Martin. I consider it very vulgar for a 
young girl to ask such a question. Does your 
friend come of good family, John? 

Morgan. Yes, rather — er — (Hesitating and 
thinking) That is — perhaps not the kind of people 
you're accustomed to, Aunt. He's rather a rough 
diamond, but he has a heart of gold. 

Margery. {Disappointed) Oh! 

Morgan. Don't you care for hearts of gold, 
Margery? Jerry has gone out to do a bit of shop- 
ping. If he comes in you mustn't be surprised if 
he seems a bit loud. You must remember, Margery 
that under his gaudy exterior beats a heart of gold 
and you should like hearts of gold even if you 
don't. 

Margery. Oh, Jack, here's some marmalade! 
May we have some? 

Morgan. Sure thing, trot out the biscuits, too. 

Mrs. Martin. Mar-ma-lade? 

Morgan. Yes, Aunt, but what an odd way you 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 17 

have of saying it ! Ah. I see it reminds you of the 
old joke about the hen. Ha-ha! Very good! 

(Margery laughs but Mrs. Martin goes on with- 
out noticing his idiocy,) 

Mrs. Martin. Why, John, we are especially 
requested not to eat marmalade ! 

Morgan. {At a loss) Oh are you dieting ? But 
Margery can eat it, can't she? 

Mrs. Martin. Margery shall not touch it. 

Morgan. (Bewildered) Oh, — is it an — er — 
religious observance? Aren't you allowed to eat 
the jam or the marmalade after its kind? 

Mrs. Martin. It has nothing to do with the 
Church, John. It is a Government request. 

Morgan. Now, Aunt, you're way beyond my 
depth. Why does the Government care whether I 
eat jam or not? 

Mrs. Martin. We are asked to conserve sugar. 
Marmalade uses a great deal of sugar. 

Morgan. Oh, come now Aunt, this marmalade 
hasn't used a grain of sugar since it's been here. 

Mrs. Martin. Don't be foolish, John. And 
you should make a practice of eating only perish- 
able stuff that cannot be shipped to France. 

Morgan. This couldn't be shipped to France, 
the jar's cracked. It would perish in no time. 

Margery. I'm going to eat it, Mother. It will 
just be wasted if I don't, won't it Jack? 

Morgan. Margery, you present a picture to melt 
a heart of stone. Let the poor child have the 
marmalade, Aunt, or I shall exile the jar to the 
garbage pail. 

Mrs. Martin. Full garbage pails in America, 
John, mean empty dinner pails in Europe. 

Morgan. Oh, I say. Aunt, but who'd want to 



i8 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

eat a dinner pail full of garbage? Have a heart, 
do! 

(A noise is heard outside, - then a voice singing 
a topical song. The- door bursts open and 
Jerry Thorpe appears dressed in loud 
clothes. He has two packages in his hand. He 
is dressed in a striped suit, with trousers too 
short and coat too cut-in at the waist; he wears 
a sport shirt with low collar and red tie with 
a diamond pin, cloth top hoots, a straw Alpine 
hat with scarf and a diamond ring on his 
finger. His hair is pompadored and dressed 
with brilliantine. Both the ladies stare, taking 
in every detail of his toilet. Thorpe ^stops 
midway in his burst of song and looks 
embarrassed.) 

Morgan. Ah, there Jerry — you are just in time 
to meet my Aunt and cousin. Aunt, this is Mr. 
Gerald Thorpe — my aunt, Mrs. Martin and Miss 
Martin. 

(Thorpe z/^ry embarrassed, drops one package, and 
removes his hat. Mrs. Martin bows coldly. 
Margery, suddenly sympathetic to his confu- 
sion, offers her hand.) 

Margery. How do you do, Mr. Thorpe? 

(Thorpe, much confused, bungles around with his 
hat and packages and finally offers his hand 
too late.) 

Morgan. We have just been talking about you, 
Jen-y. 

Thorpe. {Glares at him) Is that so? 

Morgan. I've been telling my cousin what a 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 19 

cut-up you are. But he has a heart of gold, never- 
theless. Margery. I told you that, too, didn't I? 

Thorpe. (Feebly) How you do run on ! 

Morgan. I have to, old top, to cover your 
painful embarrassment. Poor old Jerry isn't used 
to meeting ladies, Margery. He has been in the 
wilds of Mexico for so long. But he's a dog with 
them when he gets going, aren't you, Jerry? 

Margery. (IJ^ho is sorry for Thorpe) Won't 
you have some tea, Mr. Thorpe? 

Morgan. Oh yes, Jerry, you must get next to 
these little refinements now. Mr. Thorpe is engaged, 
Margery, to a girl out west and he is going to 
marry her next month. I say, Jerry, are these the 
little gifts you were going to buy your fiancee? 
(He seises the packages and begins to open one.) 

Thorpe. (Frantically) Here, give me that, 
Jack. Miss Martin won't be interested in it. 

Morgan. Oh yes she will, won't you, Margery? 

Margery. (Politely) Yes, indeed, Mr. Thorpe, 
do let me see it ! 

Morgan. (Unwrapping parcel) Miss Martin 
has excellent taste, Jerry. She can tell you 
whether your little gift will appeal to your fiancee. 
(He finally unwraps, in spite of Thorpe's efforts 
to deter him, a celluloid manicure set in a box ivith 
painted cover and puffed pink satin lining. 
Margery gasps zvith horror. Morgan laughs) 
There you see, it has quite taken my cousin's breath 
away, — lucky girl, your fiancee, Jen-y. (Hands 
him the box.) Show it to Mrs. Martin. 

(Thorpe unwillingly exhibits the horror) 

Mrs. Martin. (Coldly looking up from her 
knitting) Very pretty, I'm sure. Gome, Margery, 
it is time for us to leave. 

Morgan. (Cheerfully) Wait a minute. Aunt, 



20 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

here is another Httle offering. Let's see what this 
is. {He unwraps a satin pillow of bright colored 
satin zvith a girl's head painted on it and holds it 
up to view) Aha — ah— I am struck dumb with 
dehght. I can only voice myself after the awed 
manner of the populace gazing at fireworks. (Gives 
a prolonged Ah.) 

i Margery. (Annoyed and sympathetic) I'm 
sure it is very pretty Mr. Thorpe. 

Mrs. Martin. Come, Margery, we must go. 

Morgan. Oh, Aunt, not so soon. You haven't 
half finished that union suit you are making for the 
Potsdam Guard. Do stay and put the finishing 
touches on it. 

{Mrs. Martin and Margery gather their things 
together in cold disapproval.) 

Morgan. Oh, must you go, Aunt? When shall 
I see you again, Margery? 

Margery. I don't know, Jack, I'm going out 
west next week to visit a school friend of mine in 
Chickapee, Indiana. 

Thorpe and Morgan. (Together) Chickapee! 

Margery. Yes, it's a quaint name, isn't it. Good- 
bye, Jack ! Good-bye, Mr. Thorpe ! 

Mrs. Martin. We shall miss our train, Margery, 
if you don't hurry. Good-bye, John. (She bows 
coldly to Thorpe and goes to the door.) 

(They exit) 

Morgan. (Opening the door suddenly and call- 
ing) I say, Margery, what will your address be? 

Margery. (Calling back) Care of Eve Littleton, 
South Street, Chickapee. 

(Morgan closes the door and looks at Thorpe) 



THE PRCFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 21 

Morgan. Is it possible? 

Thorpe. {Flinging himself into a chair) Yes, 
it is. 

(Morgan roars with laughter.) 

Thorpe. Why did you try to make an ass of 
me before that girl? 

Morgan. I make an ass of you ! Now you are 
under-rating yourself Jerry. 

Thorpe. You don't suppose I am going on with 
this idiocy,, do you? 

Morgan. I jolly well think you are. How could 
you get out of it now? This is the luckiest thing 
that ever happened. Margery will have your fiancee 
all prepared for the shock. 

Thorpe. Great Scott! 

Morgan. Cheer up, the battle will be hilf over 
by the time you get there, but you will have to buck 
up and put a little more pep into your part. You 
left all the work to me today. Nevertheless the 
general effect was good, excellent in fact. (He 
laughs again.) 

Thorpe. Oh, shut up, Jack. How long do you 
suppose we will have to stay out there? 

Morgan. (Looking at him from head to foot 
and exploding with laughter again) I couldn't say, 
Jerry, personally. I should think Miss Littleton 
would call out the fire department and have the 
tragedy over with in twenty minutes. But if she 
is a forbearing maiden it might take a few days, 

( Curtain ) 

ACT H 

Scene : Living room in Professor Littleton's house 
in Chickapee. Room attractively furnished. 



22, THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Wicker furniture and old mahogany — curtains, 
covers, and pillows of chintz. Eve Littleton, 
an attractive, smartly dressed girl of about 
twenty-three, is discovered lying in a chaise 
longue — her head buried in her arms in an 
attitude of dejection. 

{Enter Margery Martin — Eve sighs heavily.) 

Margery. Why Eve, what is the trouble? (Eve 
produces a crumpled telegram and holds it out 
without looking up — Margery reading) "Arriving 
the sixteenth at 2 :30, signed Jerry." Who is Jerry ? 

Eve. Jerry is my fiance. 

Margery. Why Eve, how thrilling, and you 
never told me ! Where did you meet him ? 

Eve. {Morosely) At the threshold of the 
nursery. 

iViARGERY. What on earth are you talking about 
— do sit Up and tell me about him. 

Eve. {Sitting up) There is nothing to tell 
Margie, that is precisely the trouble, I haven't seen 
him for seven years. You might as well ask me to 
tell you about the Emperor of Siam. 

Margery. You haven't seen him for seven 
years — where has he been? 

Eve. Out of the country — he is a mining 
engineer. 

Margery. Then you were engaged to him before 
you went East to school ? Now Eve, you were only 
sixteen! 

Eve. Yes, that is how it happened. 

Margery. Why didn't you tell me? 

Eve. I couldn't expect you to keep the dark 
secret with the faithfullness that I did. 

Margery. {Reproachfully) I don't think that 
was very nice. 

Eve. I don't think anything about it is "very 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 27, 

nice," that is why I am depressed. 

Margery. Don't you love hnii? 

Eve. Love him? Not any more than I love the 
Emperor of Siam. 

Margery. Why do you keep on talking about the 
Emperor of Siam? 

Eve. Why not? 

Margery. But why did you get engaged to him? 

Eve. Why does the sun rise? Why do children 
like penny pickles? Why is father absent minded? 
Why was I ever sixteen? It was as inevitable as 
those other phenomena I mentioned. If you had 
spent your youth in Chickapee, you would under- 
stand. There wasn't a human youth here, except 
farmers' sons and clerks. Jerry c^me out with an 
engineer corps ; he spent the summer here and I 
saw him every day. He read "India's Love Lyrics" 
to me. 

Margery. Well perhaps he will read them to 
you now. if you like that. 

Eve. Oh Margery, be merciful, I hadn't thought 
of that. 

Margery. But you did care for him then? 

Eve. I adored him. He was a sweet lamb. 

Margery. Perhaps he still is. Eve. 

Eve. Well he isn't. Sweet lambs don't appear 
to thrive in Mexican mining villages. Listen to 
this. {She produces a letter and reads:) "Well 
girly, I've been painting the town red, but you 
needn't be jealous. The Broadway peaches look 
good to me after the Mex's, but yours truly never 
forgets his own little pet out in Chickapee. How 
did you like the last little gift I sent you? I paid 
eight bones for it without a murmur. I'll sure show 
you a good time when we live here ; cabarets every 
night, and little parties that will make you sit up 
and take notice. Some class you'll find it, after 
Chickapee." And so on, for four pages, dropping 



24 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

a gentle hint at the end that he will expect me to 
learn to be a "good dresser," and keep my end up ! 
(She drops letter in disgust.) 

Margery. [Gasps, horrified) Oh Eve, that is 
too impossible ! Why didn't you break your 
engagement by letter, when you saw how he was 
changing ? 

Eve. My dear lamb; you don't suppose I've 
stood that sort of thing for seven years, do you? 
This has only happened since he has been in New 
York. It seems to have gone to his head. When 
he was out of the country, he wrote me short letters 
every two weeks; uninteresting of course — most 
men's letters are, but never vulgar — mostly about 
his work. 

Margery. Even so, I don't see why you stayed 
engaged to him all these years, after you had 
stopped caring for him. 

Eve. But I wasn't sure that I had stopped car- 
ing. There hasn't been anyone else; and Jerry 
depended on me so, poor boy, away in those ungodly 
places all this time; I was all he had to think of; 
I couldn't throw him down. 

Margery'. Oh Eve, how dreadful — that horrid 
letter. 

Eve. Oh, wait until you see the little gift he so 
generously alludes to; the last one kept me awake 
for three nights. (She rises and opens a drawer in 
the desk; brings out the pillozv which she shows 
Margery. ) 

Margery. Gasps and stares in a puzzled fashion. 

Eve. Yes, charming isn't it? And look at, this 
"tasty affair," as he calls it. (Produces manicure 
set.) 

Margery. (Starting) Eve, I've seen that 
before. 

Eve. Don't be so dramatic about it Margery, 
I've seen them before myself. They are quite 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 25 

plentiful in department shops. I found it more 
depressing than unique. 

Margery. What is his name, Eve? 

Eve. Gerald Thorpe. Do you want me to get 
you some salts? I was a trifle overcome myself, 
when I first saw them. 

Margery. I knew I had seen them before. 

Eve. My dearest girl, if lapses in taste always 
have such an alarming effect upon you, I shouldn't 
think it would be safe for you to go shopping alone. 

Margery. He showed them to me himself. 

Eve. Margie dear, you had better lie down for 
a minute. Don't try to talk dear, its all right. 
(Soothingly.) 

Margery. Eve, I have met Mr. Thorpe, he was 
living with my cousin Jack Morgan. 

Eve. Margery, is Jack Morgan your cousin? 
I know Jerry is living with him. Did you really 
see him? (Margery nods speechlessly) What is 
he like? 

Margery. Oh my, dear! 

Eve. As bad as that? 

Margery. He is pretty awful, but Eve, Jack 
says he has a heart of gold. 

Eve. Well I'm more interested in knowing about 
his collar, Margery, than his heart. What sort of 
a collar does he wear? Besides, it doesn't help 
matters to tell me about his heart of gold; the 
more well intentioned he is, the harder it makes it. 
If I could persuade myself that he was a beast, 
it would be easy enough to turn him down. 

Margery. Oh the poor man. Eve, after all 
these years, you are probably the lode star of his 
existence. 

Eve. What a helpful suggestion, Margery. Don't 
you think there is any chance of his hating me at 
sight? I'm frightfully intelligent Margie, and rnost 
men don't care for that. 



26 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Margery. But you always concealed it from 
them, Eve, and you are so pretty. 

Eve. Oh I'm not so awfully pretty, Margery. 
You ought to see me when I'm having my hair 
shampooed. You don't think it would be practical 
do you, to let him discover me for the first time 
with my hair lathered, and a turkish towel around 
my neck? He might take the first train East. 

Margery. Are you really homely, Eve? 

Eve. Oh very. Do 3^ou suppose if I were plain 
and intellectual, he would tr\^ to wriggle out of it? 

Margery. He might. He's a very flashing type, 
but you're not plain. 

Eve. But I could be; I could look like the 
popular conception of a Professor's daughter, if I 
wanted to. 

Margery. Oh Eve, but you couldn't do it really. 

Eve. But I cotdd do it- reaMy, my sweet chuck. 
Slick back my hair, and wear spectacles, and talk 
on a high intellectual plan ; it's a wonderful idea. 
Even if he didn' go so far as to try to wriggle out 
of it, he would be abjectly grateful to . me for 
turning him down. A perfectly painless procedure 
for everyone concerned. I'm so glad you thought of 
,it, Margery. 

Margery. I didn't think of it. It is prepos- 
terous, you couldn't carry it out. 

Eve. Oh but I could; I've great latent talent 
as an actress. I haven't felt so cheerful for weeks 
Margery, the future grows brighter every hour. 
I'll borrow cook's spectacles. They're plain 
glasses, but she wears them for ornament, and Miss 
Hepsie can im.part an ancient atmosphere to 
anything she touches. Cheer up, Margie, the plot 
thickens. 

Margery. But Eve, this room will give you 
away. A village frump wouldn't furnish her rooms 
like this. 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 27 

Eve. Margie, I can see you are going to be 
invaluable to me. We'll change the furniture; the 
horrors are all religiously stored away in the garret. 
There's no time to be lost though, if we are going 
to transform me and the house too. You call Miss 
Hepsie. She is mending in the sewing room. Out 
goes the wicker. {She picks up a wicker arm-chair 
and pushes it to the door before /i^r^MARGERY 
exits. — Eve remains, taking down pictures setting 
the zvicker furniture outside of the door, and putting 
small objects away in drawers. — Enter Margery 
zvith Miss Hepsie, the village seamstress.) 

Miss Hepsie. Land's sakes Eve, what you 
doing ? 

Eve. Moving furniture, Miss Hepsie. 

Miss Hepsie. Well I may as well say I'm glad 
to see some of that basket work furniture goin"; 
I'd as soon think of fixin' up clothes baskets for 
cheers. Howsomeever, I don't hold with this 
changin' rooms all the time. When I was a girl, 
a room was a room. They was furnished to stay 
furnished. I don't hold with changes. 

Eve. Well Miss Hepsie you would "hold" with 
changing my skirt a little — wouldn't you — you know 
you've always said I wore them much too short. 
Don't you think you could be a love and lengthen 
this for me? 

Miss Hepsie. Well I don't know about being a 
love, Eve, but I guess I can rip out one of those 
tucks. (She looks at Eve's skirt, which is made 
zvith deep pleats — ) Do you want I should do it on 



vou 



Eve. Oh yes Miss Hepsie — here start on this 
one. Now Margie, you rummage in the garret — we 
must have a what-not— and don't forget the lava 
vases — get George to carry the heavy things down 
for you — he's cutting the grass in the back of the 



28 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

hovise. (Exit Margery. — Miss Hepsie starts to 
rip.) 

Miss Hepsie. A great girl like you showing her 
legs like a twelve year old 

Eve. Yes isn't it shocking! Make it good and 
long Miss Hepsie. 

Miss Hepsie. All sewed by hand — well, it's a 
sight easier to rip than machine stitchin'. 

Eve. (Touching Miss Hepsie's sleeves, which 
are set in with a short shoulder seam, and a gathered 
effect at the top) How do you make those cunning 
little puffs here Miss Hepsie? 

Miss Hepsie. By setting in a sleeve like I always 
have done, and not pulling it half way down the 
arm. 

Eve. Do you think you could make mine look 
like that ? 

Miss Hepsie. I reckon I can if you'll take it off 
— what's come over you Eve; you'd never let me 
touch your clothes before? 

Eve. Oh I've had a change of heart. Miss Hepsie 
— just gather these sleeves up for me, like a lamb, 
and let me see how they look. 

Miss Hepsie. Stop figitin' Eve— I can't do 
mor'n one thing at a time. 

Eve. Do you remember you told me once how 
I ought to do my hair — how was it Miss "Hepsie? 

Miss Hepsie. Part it and roll it over the ears 
— then braid the back hair into a bun and put a 
black ribbon bow across it — it's real sweet and 
girlish like that. 

Eve. So it would be Miss Hepsie — let's go over 
to the mirror while I try it. (She zvalks across 
stage slowly to a mirror, Miss Hepsie follows, 
ripping as she goes — Eve starts to take down her 
hair with her back to the audience). 

Miss Hepsie. (Straightening out the skirt) 
There, I don't know as that's any too long — it looks 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 29 

a sight better than it did — {She stands off and looks 
at the skirt which falls below Eve's ankles — ) 

Eve. Now the sleeves Miss Hepsie — 

Miss Hepsie. For the land's sakes, how can I 
fix your sleeves with vou wrigglin' around like 
that. 

Eve. I've a feeling that you don't care for this 
frock Ducky — let your fancy run riot, and tell me 
how it could be improved. (She begins to coil her 
hair in the manner Miss Hepsie described — ) 

Miss Hepsie. Well I like a bit of color with a 
white dress a flowered ribbon now around the 
waist — 

Eve. Just the thing — go and see if 3/ou can find 
one Miss Hepsie, and bring me a black bow too. 

(Exit Miss Hepsie. Enter Margery, carrying a 
pair of lava vases filled with pampas grass — 
and a red fringed table cloth over one arm.) 

Marciery. George is bringing down the what-not 
and a patent rocker — She stops and looks at Eve, 
laughing — "Oh Eve, how funny. You can't imagine 
how it changes that dress — " She sets the vases on 
the mantelpiece and spreads the red fringed cover 
over a table — 

Eve. . Wait until you see the full fruits of Miss 
Hepsie's fancy. Margie, take the cretonne slip off 
of that sofa and disclose the dark secret beneath. 
(Margery hauls off the slip cover, disclosing a 
haircloth sofa.) 

Eve. Now the hassocks — they are living lies 
also. — (Margery draws the cretonne covers from 
two hassocks, disclosing atrocities, covered with 
bright Turkish carpeting. — Enter Miss Hepsie 
tvith a flowered ribbon and a black bow, and a piece 
of cheap white lace.) 

Miss Hepsie. Why how nice your hair looks 



30 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Eve — {She adjusts the black how with a hair pin, 
and ties the sash around Eve's waist.) 

Margery. (Looking through the door) Oh 
here's George with the what-not. Bring it in 
George. — (Enter George, the man of all zvork) 

Eve. (Pointing to a corner) Put it there, 
George, and bring in the rocker. Margery, we need 
some pictures — "The Monarch of the Glen" used 
to hang there — and see if you can't scare up a 
chromo — Now Miss Hepsie the sleeves. — (Exit 
Margery — George brings in the Patent Rocker and 
exits — Miss Hepsie fills her mouth with pins and 
commences to gather up Eve's sleeves at the 
shoulder.) 

Miss Hepsie. (Mumbling) I never did care 
for these plain neck lines. I brought down a piece 
of lace to gather in around the neck — it makes a 
real soft finish. 

Eve. (Excellent idea) Do you swallow many 
pins Miss Hepsie? 

Miss Hepsie. (Mumbling as she gathers, the 
sleeves) How's that? 

Eve. Pins, Miss Hepsie — How on earth do you 
keep track of all the pins you put in your mouth. 
It isn't safe to put them in without counting. You 
might swallow one by mistake and never know it — 

Miss Hepsie. Don't talk such nonsense. 

Eve. That's not nonsense — you ought to have 
an assistant to count them over for you every fitting 
— You know when a surgeon is operating, he always 
has a nurse count the little sponges he pokes into 
the patient to be sure the}' are all taken out again. 
(Enter George and Margery. — George is carrying 
two pictures, "The Monarch of the Glen" and a 
chromo — Margery carries a basket filled with 
"throzvs and ornaments") 

Margery. Oh Eve, I've the most marvellous 
collection here. Look at this entrancing china dog 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 31 

— {She takes china dog from basket and tries effect 
of it, first one place, then another.) 

Eve. {Who has not tvirned around) George 
go up in the garret and see if you can find a glass 
case filled with flowers, and a bronze of Lincoln 
Freeing the Slaves. (George, who has evinced no 
interest in the proceedings, sets the pictures down 
and speaks for the. first time.) 

George. I ain't going to tote down no more 
furniture, I've got my grass to cut — {Exit George.) 

Eve. My Waterloo — George has always been my 
Waterloo 

Miss Hepsie. {Gathering the ruffle in the neck) 
You hadn't ought to laugh at George, Eve — he's a 
good dutiful man. He's been with your family goin' 
on twenty years. 

Eve. Oh yes Miss Hepsie, George is our star 
boarder. {She turns suddenly from the glass, as 
Miss Hepsie finishes. The transformation is com- 
plete. Margery who has' been arranging the con- 
tents of the basket around the room, stares and 
bursts out laughing) 

Margery. {Gasping) Oh Eve! 

Miss Hepsie. {Indignantly) There's no call to 
laugh Miss Martin — I think Eve looks real sweet 
and girlish. 

Margery. {Recovers herself) Of course she 
does Miss Hepsie — but she's surprisingly changed, 
isn't she? 

Miss Hepsie. If I had my way all the young 
would look surprisingly changed — they wouldn't 
know themselves when I got through with them. 

Eve. {Pushing her gently towards' the door) 
They wouldn't know themselves indeed, Ducky. Per- 
haps Miss Martin will let you practise on her to- 
morrow — she's a good girl in spite of her skirts 

{Exit Miss Hepsie.) 



32 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Margery. Eve, turn around and let me look at 
you — I never saw anything so absurd — and isn't the 
room perfect — only what on earth will your father 
say when he sees it and you? 

Eve. Father — why if I dressed like a Figi 
Islander, Father wouldn't notice it ! As for the 
room, nothing short of entirely dismantling it, would 
make him bat an eye lash. I suppose if I removed 
all the chairs and he had to sit on the floor, it would 
dawn on him that there was something unusual in 
the arrangement. Let's hang the pictures, Margie, 
it's getting late. (They hang the pictures) 

Margery. Oh Eve, aren't you nervous? 

Eve. Not a bit. I'm more thrilled every minute 
with my art — my sensitive soul is already respond- 
ing to the influence of the room, and ivait until I 
get the cook's spectacles. By the way Margie you 
go and borrow them from her and I'll go out in the 
garden and get a pink rose for my hair. A pink 
rose and spectacles are always a joyous combina- 
tion. (Exit Eve out of garden door and Margery 
exits right.) 

(Enter Miss Hepsie, looking for a spool she 
has dropped — she sees it on the floor, picks it 
up and starts to leave the roorn^a. knock is 
heard at the door — Miss Hepsie goes towards 
it — Thorpe and Morgan are standing there. 
Thorpe is dressed as in Act I.) 

Thorpe. Is Miss Eve Littleton in ? 
Miss Hepsie. I guess she is, step inside, won't 
you? 



(They enter.) 

Thorpe. Why this is Miss Hepsie, isn't it? 
Miss Hepsie. I be — we don't want to buy noth- 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 33 

ing here. 

Thorpe. I'm Gerald Thorpe. Don't you re- 
member me, Miss Hepsie? 

Miss Hepsie. Land's sakes — are you Jerry 
Thorpe — well you've changed considerably. I 
never'd have known you — I'll go call Eve. 

Thorpe. This is my friend Mr. Morgan, Miss 
Hepsie — and oh, Miss Hepsie, was that Eve we saw, 
picking roses in the garden? 

Miss Hepsie. Reckon it wuz — {She looks him 
over critically from head to foot) she'll be consid- 
erable surprised to see you, young man. (Exit Miss 
Hepsie) 

(Morgan and Thorpe look around the room.) 

Morgan. W'ell if that was Eve we saw w-ith the 
spectacles and a pink rose in her hair 

Thorpe. I swear to you Jack, she used to be as 
pretty as a picture. I never saw a person change 
so 



Morgan. Lord Jerry, look at this room ! 

Thorpe. It's worse than I expected — I thought 
even Chickapee might have changed in seven years. 

Morgan. The only patent rocker extant — did 
you use to do your courting in that, or on the hair 
cloth sofa, Jerry? 

Thorpe. Oh shut up — at any rate this has 
bucked me up for my part. I'll carry it through 
now, or die in the attempt. 

Morgan. Nobly spoken. From the marked dis- 
approval in the eye of Miss Hepsie, I predict a short 
run for you in Chickapee. 

{Enter Eve. Eve has put on spectacles and has a 
rose in her hair.) 

Eve. {Primly) Well, Gerald — how do you do? 



34 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Welcome back to Chickapee. 

Thorpe. (Noisily) Say it's good to see you 
girly; how's every little thing? Let me acquaint 
you with my friend Mr. Morgan 

Morgan. I have heard a great deal about you, 
Miss Littleton. 

(Margery enters — she has a work basket filled with 
Red Cross zvork. 

Morgan. Well Margery, you didn't expect to see 
us did you ? 

Margery. (To Thorpe, ivho looks embarrassed) 
How do you do Mr. Thorpe? How are you. Jack? 

Thorpe. (Much cmbarras'sed) A remarkable 
coincidence — eh What? — we were wondering if you 
would still be here. (There is a moment of awk- 
ward silence. Morgan prods Tpiorpe. In a sudden 
hurst) Not much speed to Chickapee — eh what?— 
(He looks around the room) Same old stuff you 
used to have around — quaint old place. 

Eve. (Disafiprovingly) We don't care for 
changes here. Won't you sit down? (She motions 
him to the hair cloth sofa, zvhere his pilloiv is promi- 
nently displayed. They all sit down.' Thorpe fidgets 
on the sofa, zvhich is slippery. Margery takes a 
chair near him. Eve sits in the patent rocker, and 
Morgan takes a chair opposite her, a little removed 
from the group. Margery takes out a hand fid of 
cut gausc, passes some to Eve, and then begins to 
fold drains) 

Margery. (Embarrassed) We are very busy 
with the Red Cross supplies here. 

Eve. Yes our branch sends a box every week. 

Thorpe. (Boisterously) Ha — ha — so , they've 
found out there is a war going on — something doing 
out here after all. 

Eve. (Proudly) We have a great many activi- 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 35 

ties in Chickapee. The town is most progressive. 
Thorpe. A lively little burg, hey? What do you 
do with yourself, quilting bees and spelling parties, 
eh what ? 

Eve. Oh no, those are more rural occupations. 
We have the Red Cross once a week, and the Ladies' 
Aid on Fridays. Then there is the Mizpah Circle 
that meets at the houses of the different members, 
Tuesday afternoons, and a branch of the Camp Fire 
Girls of which I am the president. And we are 
now very busy with a series of entertainments to 
raise funds for a new church organ. 

Thorpe. All hen afifairs — eh what? 

Eve. (Primly) There are very few gentlemen 
in Chickapee. 

Margery. (Who is trying not to laugh, gets up) 
1 must go and get some more gauze. Eve. (She 
exits — Eve darts a sudden alert glance after her, 
zahich Morgan observes. He looks at her and then 
gets tip and zvanders around the room looking at 
things) 

Morgan. I hope you don't mind my looking 
around Miss Littleton — You know I'm an architect 
and very much interested in old furniture. That's a 
lovely old desk you have. (He zvalks over to the 
desk on which stands a photograph of Eve in eve- 
ning dress/' — slightly behind a vase of flozvers) 

Eve. (Speaking naturally) Not at all, Mr. Mor- 
gan. That is a rather good old piece isn't it? (Mor- 
gan looks at her stviftly; she has not looked up, and 
he picks up the photograpfi, looks intently at it, and 
at her. Then .wiiles suddenly and goes on with his 
examination of the room, zvhilc they talk) 

Thorpe. Well Eve, how's the Professor? 

Eve. (Stiffly) My father is very well. Would 
you like to see him Gerald, he is in his study? 

Thorpe. (In a panic) Oh no, don't bother him 
— we can leave that till later on, can't we ? 



36 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Eve. (Suddenly understanding) Leave what 
until later on, Gerald? 

Thorpe. Er — why — er — all that, you know. 
{She stares at him gravely — Much ashamed) Of 
course you knovv^ I want to talk to the old bird later, 
but I er — want 3^ou all to myself now. You— er — 
haven't told him anything have you? 

liVE. I have not told father that you were com- 
ing out to ask him for my hand. I thought it bet- 
ter that we should see each other first, and be sure 
that we have not made a mistake. 

Thorpe. (Boisterously relieved) I say Jack, 
this little girl has it in for me. I'm afraid she 
thinks I'm a gay dog. 

(Morgan still examining the room, has found a 
lady's gold cigarette case in a zvork basket. He 
is looking it over'zvith obvious amusement. Eve 
has not turned to look at him.) 

Morgan. He is a bit of a dog, Miss Littleton — 
I hope you aren't jealous. Poor old Jerry can't re- 
sist flirting with a pretty girl. But he means well ; 
you'll have to ease him down a bit on cocktails and 
cigarettes though, if you want to keep him with us 
long. 

Eve. (Primly, not turning) I do not approve 
of drinking and smoking, Mr. Morgan. 

(Morgan, cigarette case in hand, laughs to himself 
— he crosses over and brings up a chair near 
her — regarding her with sudden interest.) 

Morgan. Are you really a very prim person. 
Miss Littleton? 
' Eve. That is for you to judge, Mr. Morgan. 

Morgan. Oh, I never judge, T only speculate 
about people — You musn't be afraid that I am going 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 37 

to judge you, Miss Littleton. 

Eve. {Tartly) I shouldn't think of concerning 
myself with your mental processes. I used the first 
word that came into my mind. 

Morgan. A very ill advised habit, my dear 
young lady, for I've a fancy that all sorts of words 
might come into your mind. 

Eve. You seem to be a very fanciful person, Mr. 
Morgan. 

Morgan. Oh I shouldn't go as far as that, but 
I've a distinct flair for understanding people. Not 
like poor Jerry here, who takes everyone at their 
face value 

(Eve looks at him suspiciously, but he i^ very 
grave.) 

Thorpe. I say. Jack, don't josh Eve. She used 
to be a regular little spit-fire when she lost her 
temper. 

Morgan. Just what I was trying to find out. 
Won't you lose your temper with me. Miss Little- 
ton? 

Eve. Should you really like me to? 

Morgan. I should indeed. 

Eve. Why ? 

Morgan. {In a lozver voice) It implies such a 
flattering ainount of interest. 

Eve. Do you want to be flattered? 

Morgan. Rather (He sits back and folds his 
arms ) 

Eve. (After a silence) Well? 

Morgan. I'm waiting. 

Eve. What for? 

Morgan. For you to flatter me. 

Eve. (Irritated) How silly. 

(Enter Margery with more work in her hands.) 



38 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Margery. (Apologetically) I had to look all 
around for this. Eve, can't I show Jack your rose 
garden ? 

Morgan. Thanks awfully, Margery, but roses 
give me hay fever. I sneeze terrifically whenever 
I see them. 

Thorpe. (Eagerly) Oh do show it to me, Miss 
Martin, I love roses. 

(Margery looks at Eve.) 

Eve. Yes, do Margery. 

(Exit Thorpe and Margery.) 

Morgan. (To Eve) You don't mind their go- 
ing, do you. Miss Littleton? 

Eve. Not in the least. 

Morgan. (Complacently) I didn't think you 
would. 

Eve. You really don't need to be flattered — you 
can perform the service so aptly for yourself. 

Morgan. That is your construction. I meant 
that I didn't think you would be jealous of Jerry. 

Eve. (Furiously) What an intolerable remark. 

Morgan. Which? (Eve does not answer. Taking 
up one of the bandages) How on earth do you 
fasten this thing on? 

Eve. Sew it, or if you haven't a needle tie it. 

Morgan. (Univrappitig it and zvinding it around 
his hand) How could you tie it? 

(Eve stops her work and splits one end of the 
bandage, wrapping it around his wrist and try- 
ing to shoxv him. She looks up to find him smil- 
ing contentedly. Eve furiously gets up and 
walks aivay.) 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 39 

Morgan. {Following) Are you very angry ? 
Eve. Yes I am. 

Morgan. You remember what I told you? 
Eve. What ? 

Morgan. That I should consider your temper 
a flattering sign of interest? 

(Eve laughs invohintarily — her back still to him.) 

Morgan. (Looking at the ros'e in her hair) That 
rose is coming out, Miss Littleton. 

(Eve puts up hand and pulls it out.) 

Eve. That was purely to make conversation. It 
was not falling out. {She faces'him) 

Morgan. I didn't say it was, I said it was com- 
ing out and it was". 

Eve. H&w clever. 

Morgan. Was that for Jerry? 

Eve. No. 

Morgan. Will you give it to me? 

Eve. I'm afraid it will make you sneeze. 

Morgan. I am willing to take the chance. (He 
take's the rose front her hand) 

(Enter Thorpe and Margery.) 

Margery. Mr. Thorpe says that he must go, Eve. 
(She crossed to Morgan, and begins talking to him 
in an undertone. Thorpe and Eve stand a little 
apart from them) 

Thorpe. Well girly, not jealous are you — that 
will never do. 

Eve. Hardly. 

Thorpe. I say you mustn't be a sulky little pet. 
Shall I come to see you this evening? 



40 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Eve. (Suddenly) Yes please do. I have some- 
thing I want to say to you. 

Thorpe. Very well — how long is Miss Martin 
going to be here ? 

Eve. Don't worry : you will see her again. 

(Enter Professor Littleton.) 

Professor. Have you seen my glasses? 

Eve. Yes dear, they are on your nose. This is 
Jerry Thorp,e ; father, you remember, don't you ? 

Professor. (Looking at Morgan) Why dear 
me, Jerrv' Thorpe, how do you do, my boy. It is a 
long time since I have seen you around here. (He 
holds out his hand) 

Eve. Oh no, father, that is Mr. Morgan, this 
is Jerry. 

Thorpe. (Painfully embarrassed) How are you 
Professor? 

Professor. (A trifle less cordial, but still absent- 
minded) Oh of course, of course; how do you do 
young man? Eve, have you seen my glasses? 

Eve. You are wearing them, father. 

Professor. Of course, of course my dear, but 
these are for close work. I left the others on the 
table. I hope the children haven't taken them. 

Eve. What children, father? 

'Professor. (Vaguely) Oh just children, they 
do meddle so with things. 

Eve. Well I'm sure that no children have taken 
your glasses dear. Aren't they in your study? 

Professor. Why dear me Eve, I believe you 
have them on yourself. You are getting too old to 
play such pranks on your poor old father. 

Eve. No dear, really these are not your glasses. 
You mustn't think that all the spectacles in the 
house belong to you. 

Professor. Of course not, of course not ; every 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 41 

one must have his own glasses-. 

(Margery who has left the room returns with the 
Professor's glasses.) 

Margery. These are yours I think, Professor 
Littleton. I found them on the study table. 

Professor. (Changing glasses) Oh yes my 
dear, thank you. thank you. On the table of course, 
just where I left them, and now what are all you 
young people going to do? 

Morgan. Why we are just leaving. Professor 
Littleton. 

Professor. (Vaguely) Leaving? 

Morgan. Yes, sir, we are stopping at the hotel. 

Professor. Why dear me, dear me, haven't you 
asked these young men to dinner? You must stay 
here, my boys ; delighted to have you. Move your 
things right over. 

Thorpe. (Hastily) Thank you very much sir, 
but 

Morgan. That's very kind of you, Professor — 
are you sure it wouldn't be any trouble ? 

Thorpe. (Savagely interrupting him) Too much 
trouble altogether Professor — We couldn't think of 
disturbing you. 

Eve. (Quickly) Vm sure they wouldn't want 
to move over for so short a time. 

Morgan. If you really want us, Miss Littleton — 

Margery. (Warningly) Jack, I'm sure one 
member of our family is enough for the Littletons 
at present. 

Morgan. (Gallantly) Well, I'm sorry I can't 
be that favored member. Good-night Margery, 
Good-bye Professor. (He bows low to Eve) 

Eve. Good-bye Mr. Morgan ; how much longer 
do you expect to be here ? 

Morgan. As long as Jerry stays. 



42 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Eve. (Disconcerted) Oh. 

Thorpe. I'll see you this evening then? 

(Eve )iods.) 

Professor. Delighted, dehghted; we must have 
a long talk together. 

Thorpe. Why — er — yes — that will be very nice. 

Professor. (Placidly) Yes, yes, of course. I 
must show you my new case of butterflies. 

(Thorpe registers relief, and they all exit zvith 
good-byes.) 

Margery. (Dancing aro%ind the room and laugh- 
ing) Oh Eve, you were too wonderful — it worked 
like a charm. (Eve does not speak hut takes off her 
glasses and lets down her hair) When are you 
going to give him his conge? 

Eve.; This evening. 

Margery. Well I can tell you he will jolly glad 
to get it. 

Eve. (Coldly) Really! did he confide that to 
you in the rose garden? 

Margery. Oh, he didn't say so of course — but 
it was easy enough to see — he did speak about your 
being very different. 

Eve. a very gallant young man. 

I\Iargery. Oh he wasn't a bit horrid — and really 
Eve, do you know I think he'd be very attractive if 
he didn't wear such awful clothes. He was quite 
different out in the garden — not a bit slangy or 
vulgar. 

Eve. Really? How interesting, you must have 
a refining effect on him. 

Margery. I was sorry to desert you when I did ; 
but really Eve you looked so funny, I had to laugh 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 43 

— you were perfect — you should have seen Jack's 
face when he looked at you. 

Eve. (Coldly) Indeed? What was the trouble 
with his face? 

Margery. Oh Iknew just what he was thinking 
— Jack is awfully keen about looks — it's funny how 
much they count with men isn't it? (Eve does not 
answer. Musingly) It's funny it happened this 
vvay though, because I always thought you and 
Jack would make such a wonderful match. 

PZvE. Did you indeed? 

Margery. Yes I did really — It's a pity he had 
to see 3'ou when you looked such a frump. (Eve 
is silent — Margery joyously) Oh Eve, you were 
such a frightful frump. 

Eve. Thanks awfully. 

Margery. Why Eve — but you meant to be. 

Eve. Well you needn't keep harping on it. 

Margery. Well anyhow you certainly accom- 
plished your purpose — no man could possibly have 
been interested in you, the way you looked to-day. 

Eve. I wish you would stop saying the same 
thing over and over again. 

Margery. {Wondering) Why Eve dear, how 
cross you are — didn't you -have a good time? 

Eve. {Crossly, sitting down and burying her 
face in her hands) No I didn't. It was a silly idea 
anyhow, and I wish you hadn't suggested it. 

Margery. Eve 

Curtain. 



ACT III. 
Scene i. 



{The same as Act II.) 
Time : Evening of the same day. Eve is discov- 



44 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

ered sitting in the patent rocker. She has on a 
smart evening gown and her hair is dressed be- 
comingly, but she wears spectacles, and a shawl 
conceals her frock. She is sitting hunched up 
in an ungraceful attitude, knitting. A knock is 
heard at the garden door. Enter Thorpe 
dressed as before. 

Thorpe. I met Miss Martin in the garden and 
she told me I would find you here. 

Eve. {Turning, but not rising) Good evening, 
Jerry. 

Thorpe. Jack is taking Miss Martin for a walk. 

Eve. Is he ? 

Thorpe. Pretty girl — Miss Martin — she's not 
interested in her cousin, is she? 

Eve. {Coldly) I have no reason to suppose so. 

Thorpe. You mustn't mind my asking. 

Eve. I do not in the least. 

Thorpe. You knew her in school, didn't you? 

Eve. Yes — we roomed together. 

Thorpe. Funny — you're not a bit alike. Flow 
did you happen to be such friends? 

Eve. Why, don't you think Margery is attrac- 
tive? 

Thorpe. Oh, rather. 

Eve. Well, then why does it surprise you that 
she is my friend? 

Thorpe. Why — er — you are so different, you 
know. 

Eve. Thank you — for the flattering inference. 

Thorpe. Oh, I say now, I didn't mean that. 

Eve. You didn't mean what ? 

Thorpe. You certainly know how to make a fel- 
low feel uncomfortable. 

Eve. Do you feel uncomfortable? 

Thorpe. Weil, we — er — don't seem to hit it off 
the way we used to, do we ? 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 45 

Eve. I'm glad you recognize the fact. 

Thorpe. {Heaves a sigh of relief) I guess 
we're both changed. 

Eve. I certainly think that you have. 

Thorpe. And you don't like the change ? 

Eve. Did you expect me to? Did you think I 
should enjoy having you make fun of Chickapee and 
turn up your nose at our old fashioned things ? Did 
you think it would please me to have you deliber- 
ately try to evade meeting my father — had you for- 
gotten how often you were his guest when you used 
to live here? Did you think it courteous to try to 
flirt with Margery and taunt me with being jealous? 

Thorpe. {Aghast) Oh, I say, now Eve, you 
mustn't think me a cad ! 

EvE. Really — well, what must I think you then? 

Thorpe. (Embarrassed) Why — er^ — er — you 
might think me — er — just a bit of a bounder! 

Eve. How very curious — you seem to have hit 
upon the precise word — you're just that — a bit of a 
bounder, Jerry — but how did you happen to know 
it? 

Thorpe. (Sullenly) Intuition. 

Eve. Then you see, don't you, that we've made 
a mistake? 

Thorpe. If you say so. 

Eve. Oh, no — you shan't put it off on me. You 
will have to admit that you see it too. 

Thorpe. It's your prerogative to jilt me. 

Eve. I do not intend to exercise it. Shall we 
break off by mutual consent ? 

Thorpe. (Gets up and zualks across the room 
thinking) All right! That's fair. We'll call it 
off then. 

Eve. (Puts down her knitting, takes off her spec- 
tables and stands up) Shall we shake hands on it, 
Jerry, and part friends? 

Thorpe. (Eagerly) Rather. {He turns, hand 



46 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

outstretched, and stares open-mouthed at her ap- 
pearance) 

Eve. {Holding out her hand) Well? 

Thorpe. Oh — I say — What on earth 

Eve. What is the matter ? 

Thorpe. [Confused) Why — er — your — er 
spectacles ^ 

Eve. (Tartly) Did you think they grew on 
me? 

Thorpe. No, of course not — but — you look so 
different. 

Eve. [Coldly) Do 1 ? 

Thorpe. Your dress ! 

Eve. What is the matter with my dress ? 

Thorpe. Why nothing — but you weren't dressed 
like that this afternoon. 

Eve. I am not in the habit of wearing evening 
dresses in the afternoon. 

Thorpe. But your hair, that's different, too. 

Eve. No — I assure you, it's precisely the same 
hair. 

Thorpe. You've done it differentlv. 

Eve. Well? 

Thorpe. (Suddenly) It's a trick. You've 
played a trick on me. 

Eve. Really, Jerry, you are too absurd. Why 
have I played a trick on you ? — because I dressed my 
hair differently for the evening? 

Thorpe. [Angrily) I suppose you think this is 
very funny. 

Eve. (Coldly) I think you are quite mad — and 
also very rude — Will you kindly explain yourself? 

Thorpe. You know perfectly well what I mean. 

Eve. (Blandly) I haven't the least idea of what 
you are driving at. You appear to be very upset 
because I have taken off my glasses and done my 
hair differently. Is there anything that particularly 
annoys you about this method of hair dressing? 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 47 

(Thorpe grunts) Would it calm you down if I 
put on my glasses again? 

Thorpe. {Glaring at her angrily) The Ladies' 
Aid and the Mizpah Circle ! Is Miss Martin in on 
this, too ? 

Eve. In on what — the Ladies' Aid and the Miz- 
pah Circle? She's never been to them, if that's 
what you're trying to ask. Neither have I. I 
merely remarked that there were such societies here. 

Thorpe. Great Scott — there is no use trying to 
talk to a woman. 

Eve. There certainly isn't — until your manners 
improve. 

Thorpe. {Muttering) Dressed up in spectacles 
and talking about the Ladies' Aid. 

Eve. Why are you so excited about the Ladies — 

Thorpe. (Interruting) Don't you say Ladies' 
Aid to me again, Eve Littleton. 

Eve. {Haughtily) I certainly shan't say any- 
thing at all to you, Gerald, until you apologize for 
your extraordinary behavior. {Exits) 

(Thorpe zvalks angrily up and down — Enter 
Margery.) 

Margery. Why, Mr. Thorpe, what is the mat- 
ter ? 

Thorpe. (Stopping) Good evening, Miss 
Martin. 

Margery. Where is Evef 

Thorpe. Eve has just had the pleasure of 
throwing me over. 

Margery. Oh, I'm so sorry. 

Thorpe. You mustn't waste any sympathy on 
me, Miss Martin, the arrangement was perfectly sat- 
isfactory to both of us. 

Margery. But you haven't quarrelled, have you ? 



48 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Why should you if you both wanted to break your 
engagement ? 

Thorpe. Don't you think I have some reason to 
be angry. Miss Martin? 

Margery. (Backing away) I don't think it is 
fair to ask me about it, Mr. Thorpe. 

Thorpe. By Jove, it isn't, Miss Martin — I didn't 
mean to take it out on you — forgive me, will you? 

Margery. I've nothing to forgive. I knew you 
were not cross with me. 

Thorpe. Rather not — but I say, I'm afraid you 
think I'm an awful bounder. 

Margery. (Softly) No, indeed, I don't. 

Thorpe. I'm afraid you don't care for these — er 
clothes, though — they are a bit too loud, aren't they ? 

Margery. (Embarrassed) Well, perhaps they 
are a little. 

Thorpe. Of course they are, I know it, too— 
but you see I don't always dress like this. If you'd 
met me three weeks ago, for instance, you wouldn't 
have known me. 

Margery. (Wondering) But I did meet you 
three weeks ago, Mr. Thorpe, at Jack's apartment. I 
don't see that you've changed. 

Thorpe. Oh, hang it all — I forgot — er — but I 
wish you'd believe me, Miss Martin. I don't like 
these things any better than you do. 

Margery. But why do you wear them? 

Thorpe. Oh, I don't know — didn't you ever get 
a dress that you didn't like? 

Margery. Why yes — I suppose I have — but 

Thorpe. (Eagerly) Well, that's the way with 
this suit — an awful mistake. You know I've never 
felt comfortable in it since I bought it. 

Margery. But you don't have to wear it, Mr. 
Thorpe. 

Thorpe. Yes, I do. There is a mystery con- 
nected with this suit. 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 49 

Margery. Oh, how very strange ! Couldn't you 
tell me? 

Thorpe. No, I couldn't possibly, you mustn't ask 
me. Miss Martin, but I do think you might trust 
me. 

Margery. Trust you? What do you mean, Mr. 
Thorpe ? I don't understand you at all ! 

Thorpe. No, of course you don't, but you don't 
think that clothes make the man, do you ? 

Margery. (Doubtfully) No, of course not — 
but I do think they are important. 

Thorpe. (Reproachfully) I shouldn't think a 
true woman would condemn a man on account of 
his clothes. 

Margery. (Almost in tears) But I'm not con- 
demning you. 

Thorpe. (Still reproachfully) Well, you can't 
deny that you're prejudiced against me. 

Margery. You do say such strange things, Mr. 
Thorpe. 

Thorpe. Forgive me, Miss Martin, but I've had 
enough happen to me to-day to make any man 
strange. Where is Jack, by the way? 

Margery. He went over to the telegraph office — 
he is coming right back. 

Thorpe. I say. Miss Martin, do you think you 
could like me a little, if I weren't such a gay looking 
bird?, 

(The garden door opens and Morgan enters.) 

Morgan. W'ell, Jerry, how is the world treat- 
ing you? 

Margery. Eve and Mr. Thorpe have broken 
their engagement. 

Morgan. A rejected lover (Staring at Jerry) 
I've read about them in books but never seen one 
before. 



50 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Margery. You shouldn't tease Mr. Thorpe, 
Jack, he is very much upset. 

Morgan. Where is Miss Littleton? Is she up- 
set, too? 

Thorpe. I have no idea where she is. 

Margery. Why did she leave you? 

Thorpe. She said I was rude to her. 

Margery. Oh, Mr. Thorpe. 

Morgan. Oh, Mr. Thorpe. 

Margery. But you weren't, were you? 

Thorpe. A little, possibly. 

Margery. Why didn't you say you were sorry ? 

Thorpe. I wasn't sorry. 

Morgan. What has that got to do with it ? Al- 
ways apologize to a lady when she appears to ex- 
pect it — If you don't you'll be sorry you didn't be- 
fore she is through with you. 

Margery. Please tell her you are sorry, Mr. 
Thorpe, won't you, if I go and get her? 

Thorpe. I will if you want me to. 

(Exit Margery.) 

Thorpe. Apologize — I apologize — great guns ! 

Morgan. What happened, Jerry, were you too 
openly jubilant about being jilted? 

Thorpe. She sitting around with spectacles on 
talking about the Ladies' Aid Society, and then I'm 
to apologize because she tried to make a monkey 
of me ! 

Morgan. (Staring at hinO I don't know what 
she tried to make out of you but she seems to have 
succeeded in turning you into a gibbering idiot. 

Thorpe. She tried to make a monkey out of me, 
I tell you. 

Morgan. Well, she had promising material to 
work with. 

Thorpe. And now I have to apologize. 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 51 

Morgan. Circe herself couldn't have done it bet- 
ter! A complete transformation! 

Thorpe. Had the nerve, I tell you, right before 
my eyes, to stand ,up and take off her spectacles I 

Morgan. Perfectly shocking-! 

Thorpe. And told me to my face that she'd 
never been to a Ladies' Aid Society. 

Morgan. The plot thickens ! I'm not efttireiy 
clear however, as to the cause of your grievance. It 
appears, to concern spectacles and Ladies' Aids. 

Thorpe. You wait till you see her and then 
you'll know. I'm not going to keep up this beastly 
masquerade any more. You got me into it, and 
you've got to help me out. 

Morgan. A very successful little performance 
its been, too. Here you are out of your engagement 
in a few hours, and with no hearts bro" en. 

Thorpe. That's all very well, but I'm not going 
to keep on looking like a guy. 

Morgan. Oh, come now, Jerry, you'd give the 
whole thing away if you changed now. 

Thorpe. Jolly lot Eve would care if she did 
know. Serve her right, too. 

Morgan. But how about the tender hearted 
Margery — think what an ungallant figure you 
would cut in her eyes. 

Thorpe. (Hastily) Oh, I didn't mean to give 
the thing away of course, but I just want to tone 
down a bit. 

Morgan. That's the caper— let Margery think 
you've learned the error of your ways from her 
refining influence. Very flattering — the rough dia- 
mond polished ! 

Thorpe. Oh Rats! I say, can't you lend me a 
decent shirt ? 

Morgan. Very sorry, old top, but it can't be 
done. I just wired back to town that I was going 



52 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

to stop here for the rest of my vacation and I need 
all I have. 

Thorpe. Stop here! What in thunder for? — 
You might have the decency to let me have one 
shirt. 

Morgan. Couldn't do it — ^but I'll tell you what 
you could do. 

Thorpe. What ? 

Morgan. .Get Miss Hepsie to aher that collar 
for you. She might fill it in with a little lace, how 
would that do? 

Thorpe. Oh, hell, I say, you've got to help 
me get out of these things. 

Morgan. When you've nothing to change, into? 
Oh, no Jerry, my boy — it would never do to have 
you running around Chickapee dressed like a Sep- 
tember Morn. 

Thorpe. Do you really intend to stay two weeks 
in this dull hole? 

Morgan. I really do — and I haven't found it 
dull at all. In fact I haven't had a dull moment 
since I came. 

Thorpe. . You don't suppose I'm going, to stay 
here and play the giddy goat ^f or you, do you? 

Morgan. Why, then, your anxiety to get other 
clothes? If you take the midnight train back East 
you can lock your glory away in a stateroom. Are 
you afraid of the porters' critical eyes? 

Thorpe. Damn the porter ! How long is Miss 
Martin going to stay here? 

Morgan. Aha ! — we are growing hotter. Mar- 
gery intends to go back when I do — two weeks from 
now. 

Thorpe. Well then — I'm going to take the mid- 
night. You can tell her I'm called back to town on 
business and I'll be back in five days. 

Morgan. And return, I presimie, arrayed like the 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 53 

lilies of the field? How do you propose to explain 
your sudden conversion? 

(E)itr Eve.) 

Eve. Why, how do you do, Mr. Morgan? 

Morgan. Good evening, Miss Littleton, I am 
here to-night to represent the dove of peace. 

"Eve. I think we are more apt to need a referee. 

Morgan. Oh no. Margery and I have con- 
vinced poor Gerald of his iniquity — he is properly 
repentant. He is a rough diamond, poor Gerald, 
but he has a good heart. 

Eve. I am really more puzzled than angry, Mr. 
Morgan. Did Jerry tell you about our quarrel? 

Morgan. I believe he had the execrable tact to 
allude to the fact that you wore glasses. 

Eve. That was a gaucheness I would have over- 
looked. Mr. Morgan, but he flared out in the most 
extraordinary manner about my hair. 

Morgan. Your hair? 

Eve. Yes — he didn't seem to like the way I was 
doing it to-night. 

Morgan. How extraordinary ! Your hair looks 
charming, if I may be allowed to say so. 

Eve. He seemed to want me to do it the way 
I l^ad it this afternoon. 

Morgan. Oh. now Gerald, my dear boy — how 
absurd! This is infinitely more becoming>to Miss 
Littleton, and fancy criticizing the way your fiancee 
does her hair! Why he'd be a regular domestic 
tyrant, wouldn't he, Miss Littleton? I must say I 
think you've had a lucky escape, a high-spirited girl 
like you would never tolerate such tyranny. 

Thorpe. T wasn't criticizing the way she did her 
hair. 

Eve. Oh, Jerry, you certainly seemed upset 



54 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

about it, and my dress, too, you seemed annoyed 
about that. 

Morgan. Amazing — charming frock I should 
call it. Miss Littleton, but poor old Gerald prob- 
al^ly has an unsophisticated taste in dress — a simple 
organdie now with a flower at the throat is more 
his style. 

Thorpe. I only said that she looked different — 

Morgan. Oh, there you have the heart of the 
matter, Miss Littleton. There is a certain type of 
man that resents change. They like everything the 
way they are used to seeing it. I knew a chap like 
that once — he fell in love with his wife when she 
was wearing a sunbonnet and after they were mar- 
ried he never wanted her to wear any other kind of 
head gear. Awfully embarrassing for the poor 
girl. 

Eve. I wonder if that is the explanation, Mr. 
Morgan ? How clever of you to have thought of it. 
But I shouldn't have thought he would have been 
so annoyed, would you? 

Thorpe. When you have entirely finished dis- 
cussing me 

Morgan. Why there's our poor Jerry trying to 
apologize and we' haven't let him get in a word 
edgewise. 

Eve. (Titrning and holding out her hand) Of 
course, Jerry, I am perfectly willing to overlook it 
— so long as you are sorry. 

Thorpe. I'm sorry I lost my temper — but 

Eve. Oh, now Jerry, please don't let's go into it 
again, you know really I can't dress to please you 
and what difference does it make to you anyway 
now that we aren't engaged ? 

Thorpe. I didn't want 370U to dress to please 
me— Oh thunder, what's the use of talking. {He 
pitlls out a handkerchief and wipes his brozv — a 
piece of paper falls out of hisr pocket onto the floor) 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 55 

Eve. (Relenting) There isn't any use in talk- 
ing, Jerry, let's forget it all and be friends. 

Thorpe. (Offering his hand) All right — we're 
friends from now on. I'm going to say good-night 
now because I'm taking the midnight to New York. 
Will you say good-bye to Miss Martin for me ? 

Eve. Yes, of course — but don't you want to see 
her? 

Thorpe. No — don't bother her now. 

Eve. But why are you going, Jerry ? 

Thorpe. On business — and don't forget our 
compact — that we're to be friends ! 

Eve. I'll hold vou to it — good-night ! Good- 
night, Jack. (Exu Thorpe) I'm afraid I was a 
little hard on Jeriy. Do you think he really minded, 
Mr. Morgan? 

Morgan. Hard on him. Miss Littleton? when 
he flew out at you and criticized your personal ap- 
pearance ? 

Eve. Well — it wasn't quite as bad as that. 

Morgan. Oh, now, I'm afraid you are trying to 
defend him — you are too kind-hearted. 

Eve. I am afraid you wouldn't think so if you 
really knew me. 

Morgan. Oh, but I'm certain I should — do you 
know, Miss Littleton, I have an idea that you are 
exactly my ideal of womanhood — and my ideal is 
very, very high. 

Eve. (Faintly) Is it indeed, Mr. Morgan? 

Morgan. Yes — I think a woman should be kind 
hearted and gentle, of course, but the quality that I 
most admire in a girl is truthfulness — my ideal 
woman is simple and direct and truthful to a fault. 
Duplicity is a hideous defect to my eyes. 

Eve. (Still more faintly) Really, Mr. Morgan, 
you seem to be very intense about it — do you hold 
such high standards for yourself, too? 



56 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Morgan. My life is an open book — he who runs 
may read. 

Eve. (Sarcastically) You seem to be a very su- 
perior young man. 

Morgan. I am. 

Eve. Quite above the frailties of ordinary mor- 
tals. 

Morgan. Quite. 

Eve. And you expect to find a girl as impecca- 
ble as you are ? 

Morgan. Most emphatically— I do 

Eve. (Doubtfully) Oh. (She is looking at the 
floor and seeing the piece of paper Jerry dropped, 
she picks it up. Morgan much diverted at himself 
is not noticing her) 

Morgan. You don't seem to be enthusiastic 
about my standards, Miss Littleton. I'm afraid I'm 
boring you. 

Eve. (Who is reading the slip of paper) Not at 
all — in fact you are beginning to interest me 
strangely. 

Morgan. But you are not paying attention to 
me. 

Eve. Oh, yes I am. But before we discuss your 
high standards of truthfulness any more I should 
like to read you this. 

Morgan. What is it? 

Eve. It appears to be a shopping list that Jerrj 
dropped. 

Morgan. A shopping list — ? 

Eve. Yes — it begins " Several sport shirts with 
Lord Byron collars." 

Morgan. (Hastily) Oh, I say, Miss Littleton — 
you don't want to read that. 

Eve. Oh, yes, I do — I want to read it very much. 
(Reads) "One trench suit, one red tie — " 

Morgan. Really, I wouldn't if I were you, you 
can't tell what you might come across. 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 57 

Eve. I can stand the shock, I fancy, and so far 
it appears to be perfectly proper. {Reads) " One 
bottle brilliantine, one striped suit with cuffs on 
sleeves." 

Morgan. This conflicts with my standards. Miss 
Littleton — I never, never read postcards or shop- 
ping lists. 

Eve. This casts an illuminating light upon your 
standards Mr. Morgan. (Reads) " One diamond 
ring." 

Morgan. I say, Miss Littleton, is there much 
more of that list ? I've positively got to get back to 
the hotel before ten. 

Eve. There are several items. (Reads) "One 
diamond scarf pin." 

Morgan. You'll forgive me. won't you, if I say 
good-night? (H bolts out of the door) 

Eve. (Raising her voice a trifle) " One pair of 
cloth top boots — " 

Curtain. 

SCENE n. 

(Ten days later. Living room restored to former 
condition; the rocker, zvhaf-not and a pile of 
bric-a-brac in a basket are collected in one cor- 
ner near the door. It is about eight-thirty. 
Professor Littleton is sitting in an arm-chair 
reading. EvE is in the chaise lounge and she 
is dressed in evening dress. From time to time 
she moves restlessly about.) 

EvE. Father, I have told George three times to 
come here and move some furniture for me. I wish 
you would speak to him. 

Professor. What do you want me to say, my 
dear? 



58 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Eve. Why, tell him to take these things out for 
me. 

Professor. But I thought you had already asked 
him to ? 

Eve. Yes, but he doesn't do it. 

Professor. Well, my dear, I don't see what I can 
do about it. George is busy. 

Eve. He's busy leaning against the garden gate. 
{She goes to the window and calls) George! 

{No answer.) 

Eve. Really, father, it's too absurd, he hears me 
perfectly. George! Father, do you consider 
George useful or ornamental ? 

Professor. Useful, my dear, useful. I should 
never think of George as ornamental. 

Eve. I should never think of him as useful, 
either — he does nothing from one day to another 
but cut the grass. George! 

Professor. Well, my dear, the grass must be 
cut. 

Eve. George ! Father wants you immediately. 

Professor. {Hastily) Now, my dear, I don't 
want George. 

Eve. George ! Father says to come at once. 

George. {From outside) I'm a-comin'. Miss 
Eve, stop your hollerin'. {He appears in the door- 
way) Look-a-here, Professor, Miss Eve she hol- 
lers at me from morning to night. I got my work 
to do. 

Eve. What work ? 

George. I got my grass to cut. 

Eve. Well, you can't cut grass at eight o'clock 
at night. Please take this stuff up in the garret, 
George. {She indicates furniture) 

George. That there stuff that I carted down 
last week? Now look, a-here, Professor, I got 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 59 

somethin' else to do beside carting furniture up 
and down all day; these women, they don't know 
their own mind from one day to another. 

Eve. Father! 

Professor. (Nervously) Yes, my dear, of 
course, my dear, what is it ? 

Eve. George's manners are insufferable. 

George. Professor, I ain't goin' to stand here 
and let Miss Eve sass me. 

Professor. Now, now, now. 

Eve. Father, is George going to move that fur- 
niture out or do you want me to do it? 

Professor. Now, my dear, now my dear, I'm 
sure George will do it. George, these — er — articles 
aren't too heavy for you, are they? 

George. {Condescendingly) I'll take 'em up 
this time — but when they go they stay. {He moves 
out zvith the xvhat-not) 

Eve. I don't see how you can stand his im- 
pertinence. {Paitses) Why don't you pension him 
off? {Pauses) Father, you treat me as if I were 
a child — how old do you think I am ? 

Professor. What's that my daughter? 

Eve. How old do you think I am? 

Professor. I can't remember precisely, my dear, 
but I'm sure I have made a note of it somewhere. 

(Eve groans. — Enter George for another load.) 

Eve. Father, what are you reading ? 

Professor. The local paper, my dear. 

Eve. Are you going to read there all the eve- 
ning? (Professor does not hear) Father, don't 
you think you get a better light in your study ? 

(George bursts into a loud laugh, the Professor 
jumps and looks up.) 



6o THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER . 

Professor. Did you say something amusing, my 
dear? I was not attending. 

George.' I guess Miss Eve wants to entertain 
her new young man here, Professor — it's no place 
for us. (Exit George zmth furniture) 

Eve. Father, if you don't get rid of George I 
shall marry the first man that asks me. 

Professor. Now, my dear, my dear, you mustn't 
do anything hastily. (He gets up still holding his 
paper and exits. Eve throzvs herself into the chaise 
lounge and groans loudly. Enter Margery) 

Margery. What is the trouble. Eve? 

Eve. My Waterloo, again ; George worsts me at 
every bout. There is no escape for me but matri- 
mony. I'm beginning to be sorry that I discouraged 
Jerry. I think on the whole I would prefer him to 
a life time spent in the house with George. Which 
would you prefer if you had to choose between 
them, Margery? 

Margery. I don't think that is a very nice way 
to talk about poor Mr. Thorpe. 

Eve. Poor Mr. Thorpe ! — poor Mr. Bounder. 

Margery. I don't think he is a bounder. 

Eve. What an incurable masculinist you are^ 
Margie — I am sure you must be the sort of girl that 
sends flowers to male murderers. 

Margery. Mr. Thorpe isn't a murderer, Eve. 

Eve. So he isn't ; I'm glad you reminded me, 
dear. 

Margery. I think he would be very attractive, if 
he wasn't dressed so loudly.- 

Eve. (Looking at her zvith sudden interest) 
Would he ? Well, I don't know, I can't see beneath 
his clothes. 

Margery. Eve ! I think you are horrid ! 

Eve. You are too literal minded, my dear ! 

Margery. You seem to think that clothes make 
the man. 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 61 

Eve. Well, as I have already indelicately pointed 
out to you, they make all of the man that I can see ! 

Margery. There is no use talking to you. Eve, 
when you are in this mood. I am going out into 
the garden. (She gets' tip and goes towards door) 

Eve. And ponder on Gerald's perfections. Can 
you see him in your dreams, Margie, minus the 
sport's collars and cloth boots? 

Margery. I don't think that is very nice. 

Eve. No, it wouldn't be — a coUarless man rarely 
intrigues the fancy. 

Margery. You are simply horrid. Eve. 

Eve. No, I'm not, dear, I'm horribly simple. If 
you could only see through me. (Margery does 
not afistver but slips on a cloak and opens door) I 
have two other virtues beside simplicity, Margie, one 
is justice and the other generosity. 

Margery. (Coldly) Really. 

Eve. Yes, really, and to prove it I'm going to 
give you a shopping list belonging to Mr. Thorpe. 

Margery. A shopping lisl — what are you talking 
about ? 

Eve. (Producing the list) Take this out with 
you, my sweetest chick, and study it carefully, then 
let your mind roam over the events of the past 
week. I could never have it on my conscience that 
I allowed a pair of cloth topped boots to stand be- 
tween you and future happiness. 

Margery. (Taking list) Are you quite, quite 
mad? 

Eve. No, quite, quite sane, and very generous. 

(Exit Margery. Eve looks at herself in mirror, 
arranges her hair, straightens out cushion^ on 
sofa and chaise lounge, finally seating herself. 
Enter Jack Morgan.) 

Morgan. May I come in ? Margie said I would 



62 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

find you here ! (He is carrying a box of roses) 

Eve. Roses ! How heavenly ! I feel like a 
debutante ! 

Morgan. Ah — but my roses are a tribute to your 
art, not to your youth. 

Eve. My art ? 

Morgan. Yes. I should like to have sent them to 
you the night Jerry left — but I was afraid you 
might think me — er — presumptuous. 

Eve. Aren't you — presuming — a good deal 
now? 

Morgan. To bring you roses? 

Eve. No. 

Morgan. Ah — ^to express my appreciation of 
your clever little performance. 

Eve. I haven't any idea what you are talking 
about. 

Morgan. You are too modest, — but that is a 
lovely trait in woman. 

Eve. You harp a great deal on your idea of 
feminine virtues, Mr. Morgan, simple, direct and 
truthful — and now they must be modest, too. 

Morgan. You have an excellent, and most flat- 
tering memory. 

Eve. Suppose we discuss ,the ideal masculine 
virtue. 

Morgan. I had rather not talk about myself. 

Eve. I had not the remotest intention of dis- 
cussing you. 

Morgan. Now you are losing your temper and 
you remember what that is a proof of? 

Eve. I am afraid my " flattering memory " is at 
fault there — I haven't the remotest idea what you 
are driving at. 

Morgan. Shall I remind you? 

Eve. No. 

Morgan. Ah — by the way — you hav€ made 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 63 

some quite charming changes in this room, haven't 
you? 

Eve. Do you find it changed ? 

Morgan. Yes — I seem to miss a what-not and a 
patent rocker — and a Rogers statuette and 

Eve. You needn't bother to enumerate — You are 
most observant. 

Morgan. I am, indeed — in all things concerning 
you. I could^tell you for instance, exactly what you 
were wearing the first time I met you. 

Eve. {Hastily) Well don't. 

Morgan. Don't you want me to remember that? 

Eve. {Suddenly sitting dozvn on the sofa) I 
wish you would stop teasing me. 

Morgan. I have been waiting all the week — for 
a chance to stop teasing you — my dear. 

Eve. I think you are horrid. 

Morgan. No you don't. 

Eve. I do. 

Morgan. Did you think I stayed here a week 
— just to tease you? 

Eve. I don't know why you stayed. 

Morgan. I stayed to make you confess. 

Eve. But you knew it all the time. 

Morgan. I didn't know it — I only hoped — I 
vv^asn't sure until this minute. 

Eve. Sure of what? 

Morgan. That you could care for me ? 

Eve. {Jumping up) Is that what you meant ^ 
confessing — ? 

Morgan. (Catching her hands) Yes, dearest, 
that is what I meant, didn't you know that I loved 
you? 

Eve. No — and I don't love you. 

Morgan. Yes you do, dear, just a little 

Eve. No. 

Morgan. Just the merest trifle — look at me, Eve 
— Just a trifle, dear ? 



64 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Morgan. (Taking her in his arms) You darl- 
ing. You do care just enough to marry me — don't 
you Eve? 

Eve. (Still more faintly) Perhaps — just 
enough for that. 

Morgan. My dearest 

Eve. (Breaking azvay and holding by the hands) 
You really have been a beast, Jack, I don't know 
why I care for you. 

Morgan. I loved you from the first day I met 
you. 

Eve. I think I began that day, too — (Smiles to 
herself sweetly and then continues, pause) — and do 
you know dear, I think that is one reason why I care 
for you. You were interested in me then in spite 
of the fact that I looked an awful frump. That 
does prove that you are different from most men — 
because although you were clever enough to see 
that I wasn't the prig I pretended to be you couldn't 
have known that I wasn't homely. 

(Morgan drops her hands and zvalks away 
restlessly.) 

Eve. (Szveetly) I think that is quite a wonder- 
ful proof, Jack. 

Morgan. Oh, you mustn't attach too much im- 
portance to that. 

.Eve. But I do, dear. I think it was very fine, 
most men value the — accident of beauty before 
everything. 

Morgan. I wish you wouldn't think about that 
— it was nothing — nothing! 

Eve. Yes, but I feel so much more sure of your 
love because of it — it proves you to be very un- 
worldly. 

Morgan. Oh, hang it! 

Eve. Jack, what did you say? 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 65 

Morgan. I say, dear, if you had to choose would 
you rather have me clever or — unworldly — as you 
call it? 

Eve. (Laughing) Why, I suppose I had rather 
have you clever — I like the other trait because it is 
so unusual 

Morgan. (Mops his brow tvith relief and picks 
up photograh of Eve from desk, hands her photo- 
grah) You certainly gave me a bad two minutes — 
You see, dear, I saw this that first hour — but it was 
clever of me, wasn't it ? 

Eve. {Laughing) Very, dear, but I suspected 
as much. 

Morgan. You witch. 

(A noise is heard at the garden door and Jerry 
hursts in dressed in his usual clothes.) 

Eve and Morgan. Why, Jerry ! 

Thorpe. How do you do? I just got back on 
the nine o'clock train. (He looks around) Where 
is Miss Martin? She hasn't gone, has she? 

Eve. No, she is sitting out in the rose garden — 
in the tea house probably. 

Thorpe. Alone ! What is she there for ? 

Eve. As far as I can gather she is sitting there 
because she couldn't stand me. 

Thorpe. I think I shall go out and sympathize 
with her. Eve. 

Morgan. I suspect, my friend, that you have 
arrived at the psychological moment. 

Thorpe. (Eagerly) Do you think I have, Eve? 
You'll help me, won't you? 

Eve. Yes, I think you have come at just the 
right moment. 

, Thorpe. Do you think I'll have to explain — 
much? 

Eve. Not — much — thanks to my generosity 



66 THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER 

Margery is sitting out there and thinking over a 
shopping list. 

Thorpe. Shopping list! 

Morgan. Did you give her that, Eve ? Oh Lord ! 
Cut along, Jerry, only it's a pity it's so dark out 
there, you ought to approach Margery with a spot 
light playing on you — she may have a horrid doubt 
as to your raiment. 

Eve. I'll lend you my pocket flash to take out 
with you. You can play it nonchalantly over your 
person from your collar to your boots to reassure 
her. 

Morgan. But before you go, old chap, I want 
to tell you that we will be needing you for a best 
man in a: month or two. 

Eve. Only you mustn't wear a red tie at my 
wedding, Jerry. It isn't au fait. 

Thorpe. Well, I'll be damned! Of all the 
traitors ! But I won't congratulate you two, until 
you can congratulate me. (Exit Jerry through 
garden door. Enter Professor Littleton) 

Professor. Good evening, good evening, young 
man. 

Morgan. Good evening. Professor. I was just 
coming to speak to you — May I tell him. Eve ? 

(Eve nods.) 

Morgan. Eve has consented to marry me, Profes- 
sor. Have you any objection? 

Profesor. Well, bless my soul, bless my soul, do 
you want to marry this young man, Eve? 

Eve. Yes, father, I do. 

Professor. Well, well, he seems to be a very 
nice young man, a very nice young man, indeed 
I don't object to him at all. 

Eve. iSfo, he isn't at all objectionable, is he 
father ? 



THE PROFESSOR'S DAUGHTER ()j 

Professor. Dear me. dear me, how these young 
things do grow up ! {He picks up paper and goes 
towards his study. Stops — runs his hand through 
his hair in a jpreplexed way, and then turns to his 
daughter) Are you quite sure you want to marry 
this nice young man? 

Eve. Quite sure, father. 

Professor. You are not doing anything rash — 
are you? 

Eve. Rash ? Father ? 

Professor. Yes, my dear, I just remembered 
something you said to me earHer in the evening. 
You are not going to marry him on account of 
George, are you? 

Eve. No, dear, it isn't on account of George, 
really. 

Curtain. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





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